I finished playing Jak 3 to refresh my memory of the last bit, and I have so many questions. Like, why is Erol even in the metal head tower? What was the point of that particular mission?
Also, how did Damas get the buggy to Haven City? From what I can tell, the Wasteland is an island, so did he just...caulk the buggy and float it across?
I don't know, man. If Naughty Dog didn't care about it, I don't either. There's now a land bridge that connects the Wasteland.
Happy reading!

"Ah, New Haven." Daxter inhaled deeply and fell into an exaggerated coughing fit. "Ugh…still the same city we left behind."

They went along the walkways, with Jak occasionally glancing into the water around them. It was cool and calm, despite the chaos around the rest of the city. No metal heads or KG bots around here, he thought bitterly. Just a normal city sector.

As they stepped into the elevator of the Freedom HQ building, Daxter leaned against Jak's head. "You think Ashelin'll be up there?" he asked casually, though Jak knew it was anything but casual.

"Probably." Jak shifted uncomfortably. "I guess we'd have to face her eventually."

"Yeah, I guess." Daxter didn't sound enthused about the prospect. "Maybe we'll luck out and she'll be stuck in the sewers or something."

As they got off the elevator and entered the control room, they saw that there was no such luck: Ashelin, Samos, Onin, and Pecker were all in various spots across the room. Ashelin gave them a tight smile when they came in, and Samos immediately barked, "It's about time you boys got here!"

Daxter rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. Jak, however, just said, "We're heading into the catacombs soon. Did you guys find out anything?"

Pecker squawked from the corner. "Onin says the catacombs are treacherous. That something is now awake deep underground. She sees your fate turning black with uncertainty." He wiggled his feathers mystically. "You must be careful as you go through."

"Yeah, uh, we meant anything useful, bird brain!" Daxter folded his arms. "Oh, it's dangerous? What a shock!"

"We found some old maps," Samos said, waving Jak over to the table. He pulled out a tattered scroll and unrolled it. "According to these, the best access to the catacombs is on the metal head side of the city, beneath the palace ruins. It winds down, through the ruins, and deep into the core of the earth."

"Do you remember the Precursor subrails?" Pecker asked. "There is another set here, that leads directly down into the Precursor core! It looks like Mar was a wise hero. Unlike someone around here, hmph."

"Yes, Mar must have foreseen that we would need direct access to this planetary weapon." Samos ran a finger down the map. "Are all the artifacts in order?"

"Got 'em all." Jak tapped his pack where the eco sphere was. "Anything else we need?"

"Just our good wishes." Samos clapped his hands together. "We're counting on you!"

"Don't count your eggs before they're hatched!" Pecker snapped. "If you ask me, the Precursors should have sent a hero without a stuffed animal on his shoulder!"

"No one did ask you, did they, ya glorified parakeet!" Daxter hopped up on the computer and shook his fists at Pecker. The moncaw indignantly flapped his wings.

"Why, you!"

Jak didn't hear what the response was, because Ashelin had grabbed his arm and tugged him a few feet away. "Jak," she said tersely, "can I talk to you? Alone?"

Jak glanced behind him, where Daxter was bickering with Pecker. "Yeah," he said slowly, "sure."

They ducked into the next room, an empty storage room with powered down monitors. Ashelin shifted on her feet nervously, then asked, "What are you going to do after you get rid of Erol?"

"...Probably go take a nap." He knew exactly what she was implying. "At my place. In Spargus."

"I know you, Jak," she said. "You wouldn't abandon Haven City."

Jak clenched his fists. "I didn't abandon anyone," he bit back. "I'm doing my part by saving the world."

"I get that, I do, but…" Ashelin sighed and put a hand on her hip. "The city needs you, Jak. While you've been off in the Wasteland, we've been here, fighting a war!"

Jak flinched. "I was banished to the Wasteland. And I've been fighting this war, too."

"But this is your home," Ashelin continued desperately. "You were born here, Jak, you're the—!"

"What do you actually want?" he interrupted bluntly. Ashelin flinched at his tone. "What do you expect? Dax and I are literally on our way to save…everyone. And I know you don't want us back in Haven just so we can get a beer together. So what do you want?"

She hesitated, then plowed forward, abandoning all pretense. "We need you to help clear out the metal heads," she told him. "There's too many of them, and that nest is getting bigger. They could destroy the city if we don't take care of them."

Maybe he'd been hoping that she would argue with him. That she would insist that she wanted Jak back in Haven because she missed him, because he was her friend, because he was important to her.

Jak stared at her, a sudden clarity coming over his mind. It was so obvious, he thought: Ashelin only wanted his help, not him.

And just like that, any guilt he felt was gone.

"...No."

"Jak," she pleaded. He shook his head and turned to leave. "I don't understand! Why are you choosing the people out there over us?!"

"Because the people out there care about me!" Jak spun around and smacked his own chest, the armor making a hollow ringing sound. "Because when I get hurt or sick or scared, they look after me, just like I look after them."

"So you're choosing these strangers over us?" Ashelin spat. "Over Samos and Keira and…and me?"

Jak felt his temper flair and exhaled. Calm down. "Those strangers? They've saved my life. They've…healed me and taught me and fought for me, and you!" He felt a bubble of angry laughter come from his chest. "All you've done is use me. Just like the Baron."

"And what about all the people who are going to die because you were selfish?" she shouted. "What about them, Jak?!"

The dark eco sparked at his fingertips. He took deep, steady breaths. It wasn't actually as difficult as it once was to keep his darkness at bay. In the back of his mind, echoed the words Damas had told him, in the moonlight, on the rocks by the ocean.

You forgot someone, warrior.

"...What about me?" he asked quietly. Ashelin blinked in confusion.

You are worth fighting for, too, Jak.

And suddenly, the dark eco fell away. It was there, it always would be, but it didn't press at his mind like it once would have.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door to the storage room opened. Daxter was there, with Samos and Pecker right behind him. "Everything cool here?" he asked in the most nonchalant voice he could muster. "We, uh, heard shouting and thought Jak's ugly side had come out to play."

"...Nothing." Jak made his way through the door, ignoring Ashelin's noise of protest. "C'mon, Dax. It's time to go."

Sig was waiting for them, sitting in a booth at the Naughty Ottsel when they arrived. He waved them over, frowning when he saw Jak's sour face.

"Well don't you look happy," Sig commented as Jak sat down. "Who pissed in your coffee?"

"Ashelin," he answered bitterly. "She wants me to go clear out the metal head nest."

Sig snorted. "Yeah, she's been tryin' to get me to take care of that for a while now. I was running out of polite ways to tell her to shove it up her ass."

Tess squealed and grabbed Daxter in a hug. "My little hero! Are you off to go save the world?"

"You know it, baby!" Daxter wiggled a bit in her arms before dropping back down onto the table. "Jak's taggin' along, too."

Tess set two bottles of beer down for them. "You better take care of my Daxxie, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Jak rolled his eyes. "So what are we looking at?" he asked Sig as Tess walked away.

"Buckle up, cherries," he began, "because it's a hell of a ride. You'll have to go down through the ruins of the palace, all the way past where the stadium used to be. The place is a wreck, and it's crawling with metal heads. Some of the nastier kinds."

"Great." Daxter groaned and fell dramatically onto the table. "I already wanna hit the button and call for help."

"Keira loaned me one of her Scout Flies to send down," Sig continued. "It's been real helpful for gettin' some info."

Sig handed his communicator for Jak to look at. The Scout Flies camera wasn't the world's best: it was fuzzy and grainy, but it was enough to see what was down there. Jak watched as the Scout Fly buzzed past the ruins of the Stadium.

"Well, looks like you got lots of the bright stuff down there," Daxter commented from over his shoulder. Jak nodded, his eyes flickering to the light eco vents. "They're all over the place!"

"There's some dark eco vents, too," Jak said. "That's probably why all the bigger metal heads are down there."

The Scout Fly continued past the metal heads, over broken pillars and piles of debris. They didn't see the Dark Makers until it made its way out of the stadium, where nothing but a destroyed city block remained.

The dark eco seemed to be interfering with the Scout Fly, because its feed was suddenly filled with static. Still, Jak could make out the outlines of Dark Makers, in the sky and on the ground. Daxter groaned as the Scout Fly suddenly shut down.

"This sucks. I wanna stay up here!"

"The Dark Makers are the big problem." Jak tapped his fingers on his bottle and took a sip. "We've seen worse metal heads, but those looked like the Dark satellites we took down before. They were pretty nasty."

"Don't remind me."

"Hey." Both boys jolted to attention: Sig suddenly had become serious. "Listen up. You're a Wastelander now, tried and true. You earned that beacon, and with it comes everything Spargus gives you. That includes the right to ask for help."

"We'll be fine," Jak replied automatically.

Sig stared at him for a second, then asked, "Do you know the story of how the beacons became a thing in Spargus?"

"Huh?" Jak glanced at Daxter, who shrugged. "No. Why would that matter?"

"The beacons were Ionna's idea." Sig took a drink of his own beer. "Way back, when Spargus was first founded, Damas went on a mission with someone. That someone shot him in the head and left him for dead."

"Are you serious?" Daxter threw up his arms. "Honestly, how hard is it to kill you guys?! You get eaten by a metelpede, Damas suffers a headshot..."

"Shh." Jak waved at Daxter to quiet him and nodded at Sig to continue.

"Back then, there weren't communicators or beacons yet. Spargus didn't have a lot when it first started, it took years to build it up. So when Damas was shot, no one knew what had happened. Until Ionna saved him."

"Really?" Jak tilted his head. "How'd she find him?"

"Don't know." Sig leaned comfortably on his elbows. "It's one of those stories that's been passed around the city for years, but I never heard it directly from either of them. The story goes, Ionna had the beacon made and gave it to Damas in case he got into trouble again. He decided to have one made for every citizen of Spargus."

"Why are you telling us this?" Jak asked.

"So that you understand," Sig said slowly, "why that beacon is so important. It's not just about asking for help. Damas didn't ask for help, but Ionna found him anyway. That beacon is about making sure that the people you care about don't end up dead in the desert."

Jak went quiet. Sig continued, "I don't know if it's just because you're used to doin' things by yourself, or if you don't trust me, or if you don't trust anyone anymore. But you gotta understand. You two are my friends, and the last thing I want is for something to happen to you because I wasn't there."

"..." Jak bit his lip and looked at Daxter. His friend didn't say anything, but Jak knew him well enough to know that they were thinking the exact same thing.

The ground falling away, and Sig's fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull him up. The sound of Sig's gun falling to the metal platform, while a king shouted in the background.

Sig had always watched out for them. No, they had always watched out for each other.

"So," Sig said, "I'll ask you, once and for all. Do you want me to come with you?"

Jak looked up and met Sig's eyes. "...Yeah. Yeah, I do. Please."

"Alright then." Sig held up his bottle of beer and clinked it against Jak's. "Let's finish our drinks and get goin' then, rookies."

Damas didn't take the transport directly into Haven City.

He had never been a fan of transports, and besides that, he didn't like the idea of being at the mercy of another person should he need to make an escape. So, instead, he took the Slam Dozer. He radio'd Sig on the way in, calling in through crackling static to tell him of the change in plans.

"You're comin' here?" Sig sounded frazzled, as if he were interrupted by the call. "Aren't you worried about—hey, rookie, get the bad boy up on top, would you?" There was the sound of a Peacemaker firing. "Nice shooting. Sorry, Damas, Jak almost wrecked our zoomer into a wall, so I'm driving."

"What's going on?" Damas demanded. He took out a Marauder and boosted past the wreckage.

"I convinced Jak and Daxter to let me come with them." Sig lowered his voice a bit. "I was a little worried about them going by themselves, if I gotta be honest."

"Hmph. Great minds think alike." Damas took a hard to turn to outflank another Marauder. "I'm on my way to the city now. When you get to the Dark Makers, have Jak hit his beacon so I can find you."

"Will do." In the background, he heard Jak swear. "Careful, cherries!"

There was a loud crackle over the communicator and Daxter shouted something. "Aw, hell. Damas, I gotta go, the metal heads are getting uppity."

"Aren't they always?" Damas asked dryly. He sped up a bit as the communicator clicked off.

He was outside of the main desert now: soon, the sand would start to intersperse with grass and dirt, and a hazy rain would start. He didn't often stray this far from Spargus. In fact, the few times he could remember were when he was hunting Marauders down for stealing Spargus' artifacts or weapons.

There, in the distance, he could see it: the city he'd once ruled. It was cloaked in smog, and the palace no longer stood high above the walls, but it was clear all the same. He could make out the old temple in the mountains, still there after all these years. Damas sighed.

He'd never wanted to return to Haven City. There were very few things in this world that could ever make him go back.

Evidently, Jak was one of them.